


Happy Birthday, Drew

by xcourtney_chaoticx



Category: Emergency!
Genre: 'Frequency', Episode Tag, Episode: 3x01, Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 08:25:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5659492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xcourtney_chaoticx/pseuds/xcourtney_chaoticx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He doesn’t cry from the nightmares of Drew’s partially ruined face. He doesn’t cry when something simple reminds him of Drew. He doesn’t cry when little JoJo asks why Daddy isn’t coming home. Somehow, he holds it all in, carefully building a dam around the rising grief and loss and pain, but there’s no way it would be able to hold it all back forever."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday, Drew

**Author's Note:**

> I like this ep. I think we get to see a little more of Johnny than we usually do, and I enjoy some of these deeper storylines on occasions, ones where our faves get the chance to be sad or mad or something like that. 
> 
> Still, I feel like there could have been more that happened that we didn't see, so here we are. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I re-read this the other night and made myself sad. You're warned.

He doesn’t cry the day Drew Burke dies. He doesn’t really know why he doesn’t. At the hospital, with Pam, it just seems to him that he ought to be strong for her and the little girl. He isn’t entirely sure how to comfort Pam, just lets her hold his hand and cry, doesn’t know what to do with his own hands. He moves to stroke her hair at one point but stops himself, unsure if such a gesture would be proper or accepted. He doesn’t handle others’ grief well. One would think he should be able to, as a fireman and a paramedic, but he is awkward and uncomfortable when a person’s pain is not physical.

He doesn’t cry when he and Roy leave the hospital. The time just doesn’t seem right. He doesn’t want to go into the station with red eyes and splotchy cheeks for his shiftmates to wonder about. He’s going to let Roy field all the questions when they return, will go into the dorm to lay down or occupy himself some other way to keep his mind off everything. He doesn’t want to think about it. It can’t exactly be said he handles his own grief well.

He doesn’t cry when he helps Pam with the funeral arrangements. She’s being so strong and stoic that he can’t afford to break down. Pam already has the little girl to look after; she does not need another blubbering baby to comfort. He goes through the arrangements robotically, pitches in some money to help cover costs until the FOP and insurance checks come through.

He doesn’t cry the day of the funeral. There are lots of people crying. They tend to do that at funerals, of course, but he remains dry-eyed. He’s sitting next to Pam, as she requested of him, wears a simple black suit and tie instead of his own dress blues as she had asked. He is there as Drew and Pam’s friend, only Pam’s friend now, little Johanna’s Uncle Johnny. Johanna sits on Pam’s lap until Pam starts crying too hard, and he carefully takes the little girl onto his own lap.

He doesn’t cry from the nightmares of Drew’s partially ruined face. He doesn’t cry when something simple reminds him of Drew. He doesn’t cry when little JoJo asks why Daddy isn’t coming home. Somehow, he holds it all in, carefully building a dam around the rising grief and loss and pain, but there’s no way it would be able to hold it all back forever.

One day, he decides to drop in on the Burkes unexpectedly. It’s Drew’s birthday, and he wants to see him. Halfway there, he remembers. He turns his truck around and all but races to Roy’s house, pounding on the door until Joanne answers.

“Oh my- John, what’s wrong?”

“Please… Please, I need to see Roy,” he begs.

Joanne ushers him in and hurries to get her husband. Roy looks concerned, carefully leads him into a small guest room, asks, “Johnny, what’s wrong? What happened? Are you hurt?”

“It’s Drew’s birthday.”

His voice is quiet and brittle. Roy’s concern turns to sympathy. His partner guides him to sit on the bed and rests a hand on his bony shoulder, squeezing gently. He swallows audibly and continues, “I just-… I wanted to see him. I was gonna surprise him and Pam and JoJo and-… and halfway there I-I remembered Drew’s dead. I practically watched him die. How-How could I forget he’s dead, Roy?”

“It hasn’t been very long. Sometimes, you just forget and follow habits.”

“Pam and JoJo don’t even live in that house anymore. They left to live with her folks. Dammit, for almost twenty minutes, I forgot everything that happened these past few weeks.”

A lump rises in his throat, his emotions raging and battering the wall he’d put around them. He sniffs loudly, tears burning in his eyes. He feels his lip trembling, and he can’t look at Roy.

“It’s not fair,” he says at last, his voice thick, “It’s just not fair. Drew had everything goin’ for him… he was young and handsome and good… was a good policeman and had a beautiful family-… He was just so good, Roy… such a good friend… Roy, I only wanted to see him on his birthday-“

His expression breaks. A hot tear drops onto his hand. The cracks in the wall are too many, sadness and grief finally spilling through. A sob claws its way up his throat, forces itself out, takes him almost by surprise. Roy’s fingers tighten against his shoulder. He doesn’t understand why this is happening. He’s lost people before and not been affected this bad. He lets out another sob.

Roy pulls him in close and wraps his arms around him, holds him tight. He presses into the embrace, feels warm and safe and loved, allows the wall to crumble at last. He sobs in his partner’s arms, cries for Drew and Pam and Johanna. He clutches at Roy’s shirt and holds on for dear life; Roy is his lifeline. His belly almost hurts from crying so hard, but he can’t stop himself. Roy keeps holding him, gently rocks him, whispers indistinctly but soothingly. He feels Roy’s voice rumble in his chest.

Even when his sobs die out, he doesn’t move from Roy’s arms. He’s comforted by the rough hand at the back of his head, the fingers gently brushing against his scalp, the hand rubbing his back soothingly, the quiet voice in his ear. He sniffs loudly, whimpers, “I only wanted to see him on his birthday…”

“I know, Junior… Believe me, I know,” Roy whispers, “Just-… You just sit here with me for a little bit and relax. I’ve got you. You’re gonna be okay. Johnny, you’re gonna be okay. Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow… but one day. I can promise you that.”

“Can you?”

“Yes. I can… Now, just relax… do you need anything?”

“Right now?”

“Yeah, right now.”

“Now… right now, I-I just need this… need you… my best friend…”

Roy’s arms tighten around him, keeping him close. He feels safe and warm and comforted, and that makes him cry a little again. He loops his arms around Roy’s waist and allows himself to feel safe and content.


End file.
